A human being recalls certain events which occurred during his past, and forgets many others without understanding the causes which determined the recall of some remembrances and the total lapse of memory on others. Even modern science, in its attempt to establish criteria to lead to a rational approach towards memory, has not succeeded in tying cause to effect. At best it erected a vision of a theoretical scaffold which, despite its undeniable breadth of scope, did not result in any practical data that can be verified by experiment. There is no doubt that the day will come where science will provide understanding of the realities of human conscience and of the immense complexity of human character or personality. This day may not seem so distant when measured against the span of life (on earth) or the (long) history of mankind in general. I do not know if such a day will reveal itself to the present generation or to generations to follow. However what we do know with certainty is that the human being, since emerging from his primitive state and becoming aware of himself as a social entity, has always tried to lift the veil off the relation between the individual and self knowledge. In fact, as humanity advanced along the course of its existence, the more such quest proved to be of primordial import. Meanwhile, in lieu of waiting for when human conscience is understood in its totality, we must be content to study existing theories on our personality and to assess their application to the fields of memory and forgetfulness. Perhaps we will discover a certain harmony between theory and reality or maybe we will observe deviations between the two. Regardless of what is found, what is essential in that effort is to not neglect any scientific construct relating to our personality.

Science teaches us that the human being remembers all events tied to his emotional experience and tends to forget those beyond his individuality. If we examine this question at at a very pure level, we note that man, due to causality, is bound to all events that he perceives in his conscience and therefore cannot forget them as implied by the above mentioned theory. This is the first observation that comes to mind. However modern psychology counters with another concept which proposes that the relationship between an event and a person is neither material or spiritual but is instead tied to emotions that exert a considerable influence on the individual. The study of emotions and their impact on human beings is mainly based on the attributes of personality as well as on the courage one needs to confront the highs and lows of life at a purely individual level because personal feelings are not shared uniformly at a collective level. An individual is identified by his own unique criteria, so it is normal that emotional states which vary from one person to another should be subject to separate studies when these aim to bring out the inner feelings of each person. Consequently a person can only recall and preserve intact memories which exert a very deep influence on his feelings or his personality. Let him start to review his childhood or events from his recent past to understand which personal experiences remain engraved in his memory and he will soon realize that only those events that brought to bear a certain influence on his state of mind, even if he had once pushed them aside, continue to resurface in his recollections. As for other events which have no relation to the emotional experience, a person tends to eventually drive them out of his memory.

It would take too long to carry out an in-depth analysis of the formation and the development of the emotional process. This process is by and large explained through numerous examples treated in journals and specialized books. As for the complexity of the human personality, we have raised it here only as an introduction within the framework of the subject of our analysis, namely the recall of childhood souvenirs and either their fusion into the personal psyche or their rejection by the psychic transactions that enable the human being to represent his past.

Once upon a time when I found myself alone, oblivious to all burdens that surrounded me and weighed heavily on my shoulders, a glimpse of a past time appeared before my eyes. I recalled a period of my childhood with experiences that were sometimes agreeable and at other times very unpleasant. I let myself be drawn by these recollections, letting them play out with a slight bitterness whose source was not known to me. I imagined I was reliving this period where the mind could sail willingly with the influential currents that pulled and pushed it. without losing the pleasure or the passion needed to overcome the obstacles which were strewn in its path. I even imagined that the person who had forged this mind and to whom life revealed itself in its multiple facets and through different transformational phases could not perceive these events with the same original intensity. I tried to keep an account of memories which appeared to have retained a certain clarity but I realized that only a minute quantity of these recollections were engraved in my memory, Recollections I retained that were tied to the emotional state I was in at the very moment when I re-experienced the event that caused the feelings

The few stories I intend to relate here will make it possible to understand the psychological motives which generated reactions that were felt deep in my very soul. They constitute a practical application to my case of the above mentioned scientific theory. Perhaps others will not succeed in this exercise and they may even obtain diametrically opposite results to those scientifically established. But their experience does not sway me and only confirms that there are always special cases that are exceptions to every rule. There is no doubt that childhood represents a period of purity and love, during which the human heart wanders like a bird jumping from one branch to another, leaving one forest for another and soaring through the heavens with ease to contemplate the kingdom of the angels. Childhood's purity competes with that of nature; it evokes images of beauty and candor to which those endowed with any sensibility can not long remain indifferent. It opens the door to happiness and fills our heart with a warmth which penetrates to the very essence of our being. It is the measure of true friendship, depicted by a celestial gleam on our faces in response to the sweet smile of a child who looks at us with innocent eyes and with a heart consumed with warmth and a longing of limitless depth. It is therefore not surprising to feel heart pangs when seeing images of one's childhood running by, images characterized by either pleasant or unpleasant aspects and the subsequent impact of those images on our feelings and sensations. The period of childhood is venerable, beloved because it represents a reason for our belief in a life full of challenges and at the same time it is a chapter of happiness transmitted to us from a past forever gone.

I took plenty of time to review such images from my childhood. I spent a long period of strenuous effort mobilizing my mental abilities in order to shed light on the unknown causes of those events whose origins and endings I was no longer aware of . But these causes were not so easy to untangle. Those images that I retained as vague souvenirs are like shadows, leading back to a past on which the curtain of forgetfulness has fallen; shadows that did not carry with them the underlying and now forgotten events. A human being quickly forgets yesterday's obligations when he becomes preoccupied by a succession of unending new happenings that call for his attention. And so he finds his attention is dispersed amongst a number of causes and effects and thus is unable to subject them, case by case, to an appropriate diagnosis. Therefore the reader is kindly asked to indulge a forgetful person such as I and to understand the difficulties one has in attempting to present in a clear and orderly manner images of childhood and in exposing them to the spotlight of analysis without risking the loss of control over the (proper) restitution of these images set in memory.

If I reach far into the past to seek the oldest image from childhood I always find the same one which I am able to partly or entirely revive from my subconscious. Concentrating all my focus on this vision, the image which appears to me with more or less some clarity brings me back to a time when I was no more than 5 or 6 years of age. I still remember being carried reluctantly on the shoulders of my brother Mohammed who took me to the Koranic school adjoining our house. I was in fear and trembling, wishing I was dead. At the school, the pupils were crammed into a tiny space. My brother presented me to the teacher who sat me on his knee after greeting me with kisses, his unshaven beard feeling rough on my cheeks. He asked me my name but in response I burst into sobs and tears, my body trembling with fear. I no longer recall what I did as I sat amid the other pupils the rest of that day. All I remember is that after returning home, I noted that my brother had informed everybody about my first encounter at school for which I earned a kiss from the head maid while my mother could not hide the joy she felt on this occasion.

I went to the Koranic school with a heavy heart, filled with fear and loathing, wishing the earth would split under my feet engulfing me so I would never had to set foot feet in such a school. Traditionally a child in my country starts Koranic school at age of 3 or 4, but I owe my late inscription (at age of 5 or 6) to the extreme affection of my paternal aunt. She did not have any children and raised me as if I were her own son. She had always been opposed to having me start studying at such an early age and managed to hide me from view when it was time for my other brothers to go to school.

Since that fateful day a long period of time had elapsed without leaving any subsequent traces in my memory, except the day when a pupil named Mohammed Mellah, tried to help me memorize a Sura, a chapter of the Koran. I was in tears. He had asked me to recite the Sura by heart after he made me read it aloud repeatedly. But all I could do was to respond with more tears. The aforementioned pupil, as an act of kindness, would wipe my cheeks and set again upon his task to teach me that which my brain refused to retain. I recall wondering how I had reached this particular Sura when I could not remember having mastered the preceding ones. Was this a subterfuge by the teacher to trick my father into believing I had finally reached the last Sura needed to allow him to organize in my honor the traditional celebration of the "Hadka"? Was this done in the hope of gaining some pecuniary profit?

In contrast with the rest of the pupils, I remained on the whole very idle and always aloof in class. I was far from joining in with the mischievous pupils who never ceased to pull pranks on their comrades. I brought neither happiness or misfortune to those around me. So much so that the teacher rarely found a valid reason to discipline me with his cane. To be honest, I owe the slackness of my character and my indolent behavior due to my inability to rid myself of a certain weakness acquired in the milieu to which I was born and fed by the tender care lavished on me by my paternal aunt.

Amongst the traditions of Morocco are those that spring from a rich and varied cultural heritage, traditions that bear witness across the ages of our forefather's love for all forms of knowledge. Such is the case of the pupil who is monitored and supported throughout all phases of his education up to the celebration of his graduation. The particular focus dedicated by society to this tradition naturally encourages young pupils in their endeavors and motivates them to intensify their efforts in the pursuit of knowledge,

I always remember this celebration which delivered me from the state of torpor and despair I had been in. It represented for me as much an opportunity for recreation as it was a means of encouragement. I still recall the respect and consideration due to a candidate of the "Hadka" offered by the maids who had gathered around me the next morning. They replaced the clothes I was wearing with clothes made of silk and added a white djellaba (a traditional Moroccan outer garment) on top. They sent plates full of doughnuts to my school. I followed shortly thereafter accompanied by the whole household. My brothers, an impressive number of friends and acquaintances also were present. I walked up to my teacher and, after offering him the customary greeting, passed on to him a sum of money that my father charged me to deliver in person. I sat in the middle of the other pupils who wore their finest garments in recognition of this day of celebration. Tables were laid out with plates full of doughnuts after some were reserved for the teacher and his family. Later, the ceremony concluded with "El Fatiha," the recital of other Suras of the Koran and the teacher declaring this day a holiday for the school.

I was overflowing with pride, holding my head high as I returned home where I was greeted with a tumultuous welcome. My mother, my aunt and the maids each in turn took me into their arms and embraced me warmly. My brothers, my cousins and our neighbors gathered around me showing due respect. We spent a most agreeable day organizing games over which I presided with no one contravening my edicts. I recall that even the head maid of the household who never attended to matters except those she deemed fit, hurried to execute the slightest of my wishes to show her admiration for me and to make the point through this deferential treatment that I was the only one that day that could claim the privileges of the "Hadka."

When the celebrations ended, I truly felt as if I had come into the world for a second time. Until then, I had fallen prey to an idle and boring existence accentuated by the overflow of affection of which I was the constant recipient. Moreover I had the impression of having never assumed full responsibility for the consequences of my actions.

I must admit now that I am proud of certain traditions, in particular those which demonstrate the profound attraction of my fellow citizens to the realms of knowledge. This attraction manifests itself by a predisposition through the use of a psychology that excludes the use of coercion to encourage pupils to persevere in their journey to acquire knowledge. This pride runs counter to the thinking of the youth of today who are critical of all that we have inherited from those before us.

Those were the three main recollections I have preserved from this period of my childhood. The first constituted the shock of being taken away from the comfort of my family environment to a totally foreign setting. The second put into perspective the weaknesses of my emotional state at that point in my life while the third bore witness to the (subsequent) evolution of my thinking and the regaining of my self-confidence.

We did not remain for very long at the Koranic school . My father had decided to engage a tutor to give us private lessons at home. To this day I still do not understand what drove this decision. Perhaps he was thinking of sheltering us from possible negative external interactions. Or maybe he wished to ensure that we would receive the best possible education under his watchful eye. In any case, he instructed the tutor to be very strict with us. Fortunately the latter was of a very sweet nature and hardly ever had to be strict in order to bring us to learn our lessons or to follow closely the courses he taught us.

I also remember, at this stage of my childhood, a series of mostly trivial experiences which would be tiresome to report here except for one seemingly small incident which has left its mark at that tender age and continues indirectly to weigh on my conscience to this day. It concerns the following mishap:

When I was still a little boy, I often let myself be carried away by my reflections, observing closely all that surrounded me. I wondered why ceilings were so high, why there were cracks in some walls, or what was the purpose for this or that pillar and so on. I drew apparently simple observations about these questions but this should not take anything away from a precocious and exacting mind. One morning I went to our study room for our private lessons and after I kissed with due respect the hand of the tutor, I sat at my usual place alongside my brothers. I picked up the wooden tablet on which was written my lessons for the day. Moments later however, our tutor dozed off offering me the unique opportunity to conduct an experiment which had captured my imagination. I took hold of several stems of the rush mat covering the floor and laid them on my tablet. I drifted into deep thought as I examined and compared each of the stems. I placed the tip of each stem onto the side of the next one until I had formed a circle of interwoven stems. Then, I said to myself that if I rapped one of them, the whole structure would heave up in the air. I was convinced in my own mind that I was going to discover through this act, a secret reaction that no one else was aware of. I felt light of heart and my mind was animated as never before. I exerted as much passion as enthusiasm in the precise study of the interwoven stems. It was at this moment that the tutor woke up and began to wonder what I was up to. My brothers were also intrigued. But I paid no attention to them and remained in deep study. I expressed out loud what I was thinking would happen leading to the upward flight of the stems. I exclaimed " if this stem rests on the next and the latter rests on the one ahead and so on..... then when I strike the last one with my hand there will a great explosion!" An explosion which I mimicked loudly. The tutor was exasperated and proceeded to inflict a sharp blow with his cane, a blow that set my whole body trembling and shook me to the core. I had no clue what was happening to me. I was so sure that if my tutor had allowed me just one more minute I would have demonstrated something wonderfully new.

This mishap hit home, causing the first shock to my ability to think freely and created a certain perception of the traditional system of education which I have mentioned here. I leave it to the care of the informed readers to express their comments as elicited by this situation.